


Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me.

by ssclassof56



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10150148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssclassof56/pseuds/ssclassof56
Summary: Originally posted on LiveJournal's Section7MFU for an Impromptu PicFic Challenge





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LiveJournal's Section7MFU for an Impromptu PicFic Challenge

Melinda stood in the bay of windows, silhouetted against the gray winter morning, her red sheath dress the only spot of color.  
  
Napoleon emerged from the bathroom, straightening his tie. “Mel?” he called softly, surprised to find her in the same position as before he went to shower and dress.  
  
“What time is it?” She swung her chin around, allowing him to see her profile. Her face was shadowed and unreadable.  
  
He checked his watch. “It’s almost nine.”   
  
She gave a small nod. Her shoulders rose as she inhaled deeply, but she did not speak.  
  
“I hate to kiss and run…” He let the sentence trail off, unable to gauge her mood.  
  
She turned her face back to the window. “Napoleon, will you remember me?”  
  
He smiled in relief and replied smoothly, “Of course, I will.”  
  
“What will you remember?”   
  
“Oh, many things.” He stepped closer.  
  
“Stay where you are,” she commanded. “Just tell me quickly, please, what you’ll remember.”  
  
He slid his hands into his pockets. “Well, this for starters. Your standing before the windows, like a princess surveying her kingdom.”  
  
“What else?” Her tone held a hint of urgency.  
  
“Your red dress. It drew my eyes from across the room. It said, ‘Here is a woman of beauty and passion.’ Not every woman can live up to that promise. It’s even more rare to meet someone who exceeds it.”  
  
“And you would know.” There was no rancor in her tone. “Thank you, Napoleon. Now go.”  
  
He hesitated, not used to being summarily dismissed. “Can I leave you my number? I’d love to hear from you if you’re ever in New York.” He reached inside his jacket.  
  
She laughed harshly, the sound as bleak at the landscape outside the windows. “They were right. Your libido will be the death of you.” She twisted one slim arm behind her back. “This dress has one more promise for me to keep.”  
  
She slowly drew down the zipper, the same one she had prevented him undoing hours earlier. She had unzipped it herself, and he assumed she was being coy.   
  
A cascade of red gas began to pour from the seam. The crimson cloud billowed around her legs and rolled across the floor towards him. She bowed her head against a glass pane. “Goodbye, Napoleon. I hope you live to remember.”


End file.
